


Love Like Heaven

by webcricket



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-01 22:29:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13304673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/webcricket/pseuds/webcricket
Summary: This drabble is really sweet sensual seraphim smut with overtly religious tones and some biblical non-kinky praise. Icy holy water shower after reading to cleanse your immortal soul is totally optional.





	Love Like Heaven

“Castiel!” It’s not the first time you’ve gasped out the angel’s name at the altar of ecstasy tonight. And with his unfaltering stamina and unswerving desire to demonstrate just how fiercely he adores you in this most intimate of interactions – the idolatry he upholds for your very existence – it’s probably also not the last.

His skillful worship of your body uses every instrument – physical and divine – available to him. The exhaled sighs, rapturous hums, and the reedy squeak of the motel mattress resonate and swell in a flourishing hymn to hedonism. Once he commits his heart fully to a cause, nothing the angel pursues is done in half-measure. His love for you is no different; each time he makes love to you it’s a revelation. You’ve become his religion and your body a temple to be venerated.

“Cas, please,” you whimper and moan – a desperate strained plea for relief. Fingers scrambling at the slope of his muscular shoulders, legs wrapping around his waist, spine arching, your heels dig into the firm flesh of his ass. Toes curling, the balminess of his celestial grace washes over you – baptizing you in the radiant heat of unconstrained celestial love as awareness of the world beyond the tangle of your bodies begins to fade into blissful oblivion.

It’s right here – at the brink of your orgasm – where the crucifying burden of the angel’s self-doubt lifts and he finds his faith and true purpose time and time again. Darkened pupils rimmed in sky blue and wetly gleaming watch the gentle fluttering of your lashes and the sink of your head into the pillow. He smooths the tousled halo of hair that surrounds your flushed features, the rough pad of his thumb tenderly brushing the swollen kiss-bruised gape of your mouth.

You’re the truth and the light he has spent the endless dark days since his creation seeking, and in his devoutness he will not now nor ever deny that which you ask of him. Plump lips dropping to sprinkle a liturgy of kisses along your jaw, tongue tracing down the sweat-salted expanse of your throat, his mouth ghosts to your pulse point, mapping the swift beat of life under the delicate stretch of skin.

The lazy rhythmic shallow thrust of his hips shifts as you tremble and threaten to shatter beneath him. Every nerve ending in your shuddering frame is ablaze – muscles straining and wrought to the pinnacle of pleasure. The piston and plunge of his hips deepening with agonizing precision, his pace remains unhurried. Thick cock caressing all the sensitive spaces inside you, his grace courses over and through you – fuel for the white hot flame of ecstasy that consumes you.

“Oh God, yes! Cas-Castiel!” you cry, senses overwhelmed, tensing and quivering in his embrace.

It’s your praise for his father – praise the angel equates to prayerful gratitude for his own humble creation – that drives him to his own release. Growl rumbling through his chest, his pleasure is both heard and felt as it breaks over you in a shockwave.

Giving up control of his being like this, so completely – not only his vessel but his angelic form – it feels like freedom. Once more he soars, whole, wings unsullied, in blissful flight. Only now, when he senses himself falling, he is unafraid – knowing he’s not falling from Heaven, but into the loving arms of the Heaven his father created on Earth for him.

Spent, entwined together in the afterglow in a mass of rumpled sheets, weak limbs, ruffled feathers, and affectionate and soothing touches, the angel murmurs his own grateful praise for the Lord of your creation against the slick of your skin, rasping voice a broken whispered, _“Hallelujah.”_


End file.
